Happily Ever After
by Len
Summary: Spike faces some hard truths about himself and his behavior. References to B/S and W/T.


Happily Ever After  
  
By Len  
  
Rated R  
  
Spoilers: post-Dead Things  
  
Summary: Spike faces some hard truths about himself and his behavior.  
  
Pairing: B/S and W/T  
  
Notes: Not exactly the HappyFic I've been promising, but this had to be written.  
  
Dedication: For anyone else who thinks that Joss has some explaining to do…  
  
Feedback: Why yes, thanks! I'd love some!  
  
  
  
He was lying on his back, having finally summoned the energy to make it home. The moment he heard her he knew something had happened. Will had always been the emotional barometer of the gang - when she was happy, everyone was. When things were going badly for her friends, she felt it. Just another of those witchy things she had that made him more wary of her than he should be, what with her being a mere human and all.  
  
  
  
Her breath was catching in her throat, but as she got closer she seemed to get it under control. Spike guessed that she'd been crying. He didn't bother to look up when she entered.  
  
  
  
"Spike?"  
  
  
  
"What?"  
  
  
  
"Are you…" she got a good look at his face and stopped. "What happened to you?"  
  
  
  
"Got in a bit of a tussle. What happened to you?"  
  
  
  
"What? Huh? N-nothing."  
  
  
  
"Right. You're five seconds away from crying your heart out."  
  
  
  
"That's not true!"  
  
  
  
Spike sat up and raised an eyebrow. Her shoulders sagged. "Tara left."  
  
  
  
"For good?"  
  
  
  
She nodded miserably and sat down, setting something on the tomb lid beside him. It clinked against the stone, but he was too caught up in the picture of grief she made to wonder much about it. "For good."  
  
  
  
"Oh."  
  
  
  
"Yup."  
  
  
  
"You know what your problem is, Will?"  
  
  
  
"I bet you're going to tell me."  
  
  
  
"Too right. Your problem is that you fell for her."  
  
  
  
She looked at him incredulously. "You think?"  
  
  
  
"Yeah. I know your type – jump in with both feet before even making sure that there's water below."  
  
  
  
"Maybe. But I can't help it. You can't help loving someone."  
  
  
  
"Well, of course *you* can't – that's your problem."  
  
  
  
"Thanks for the counseling, Spike. But I just came by because I thought you might need-"  
  
  
  
Spike cut her off, not wanting her to miss the point. "I'm not trying to be mean, pet. Well, not at the moment. But I've been it before."  
  
  
  
"Been….?  
  
  
  
"Love's bitch."  
  
  
  
"Hey! I am not!"  
  
  
  
"Sorry, Will. Come up with a more PC term if you like, but whatever it is it's all over you."  
  
  
  
"Romantically accident-prone?"  
  
  
  
"That'll do."  
  
  
  
Willow watched his profile for a moment, seeing the fine lines of tension around his eyes and mouth despite his battered and swollen appearance. Maybe it was time for him to listen to his own advice. She sighed. "Why do you put up with it, Spike?"  
  
  
  
"With what?"  
  
  
  
"You know with what. I can tell you didn't get your face beat in by walking into a door."  
  
  
  
He blinked, trying to invent another plausible story.  
  
  
  
"Spike?"  
  
  
  
"Ran into a bit of trouble with some vamps, that's all."  
  
  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
  
  
"Listen, Will, believe me or no – I don't bloody care."  
  
  
  
"You shouldn't have to put up with it, Spike. It's abuse."  
  
  
  
He turned on her, suddenly furious. "You don't know the first fucking thing about it! I love her. I. Love. Her. Can you get that through your thick little skull?"  
  
  
  
"And the hitting? Where does that come into this grand love affair?"  
  
  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
  
  
"Or what, you'll kill me? I have to say this, Spike, as a friend. I love Buffy. She's been one of my best friends. But she has no right to do this to you."  
  
  
  
"I ran into a pack of vampires, Willow."  
  
  
  
"You ran into the person you think is the love of your life. This isn't the first time it's happened, is it, Spike? You two have sex—"  
  
  
  
"We make love! Don't make this out to be something dirty!"  
  
  
  
"—you *have sex*, and she beats the crap out of you, and you both pretend like nothing out of the ordinary is happening. This isn't healthy! For either of you! Did you treat Drucilla like this?"  
  
  
  
"Leave Dru out of this, Willow. I'm warning you—"  
  
  
  
"I hate seeing you like this! Don't you understand? You two will *never* be friends. You will *never* be happy. She will always be the slayer, and you will always be a demon. I'm just afraid…"  
  
  
  
"What? That me an' Buffy will have our little happily ever after and leave you all alone?"  
  
  
  
"No. I'm just…I'm afraid that one day she'll go to far, and she'll kill you. That's what I'm afraid of. You deserve so much more than this, Spike. Why won't you see that?"  
  
  
  
"You're one step away, missy…"  
  
  
  
A tear slowly made it's way down her face. "W-why can't you see…?"  
  
  
  
Spike rolled his eyes at the pathetic display. "Oh, *now* what the Hell are you cryin' about, Witch? Why don't you get off your soapbox and admit it? Its jealousy, isn't it? That I've got the slayer, and you've got no- one…"  
  
  
  
She sniffled and looked him in the eye. "Better no-one than being beaten by someone I love."  
  
  
  
He glared at her.  
  
  
  
"I won't sit by and watch this," she said decisively. "Face it, Spike. And deal with it. Because if you don't, I'm going to talk to Buffy."  
  
  
  
"Why you little – *argh!*"  
  
  
  
"And if you're going to try and eat me, then I'm leaving. Just remember what I said."  
  
  
  
"Burned in my brain. Don't think I'll be forgetting any time soon, Witch," he snarled.  
  
  
  
Spike watched the redhead as she walked to the door, her own grief wrapped around her bowed shoulders like a shroud. He continued to glare daggers at her back until she disappeared, and continued to hate her for a long while after that.  
  
  
  
After the moon had set and birds outside the crypt started to stir he finally looked away from the doorway, feeling twice his age. And for a vampire, that was really saying something. His gaze settled on the bottle of blood next to him. That must have been why Willow had come by. How had she known he needed it?  
  
  
  
He picked up the glass vessel and swirled the liquid around in it, watching as the torch light reflected off its surface. Red. Such a beautiful color, full of warmth and life. Even emotionally bruised as she was, Will had thought to bring him this.  
  
  
  
"Happily ever after," he muttered. And then he threw the blood against the wall, smiling as it shattered.  
  
  
  
  
  
The End  
  
  
  
Feedback? 


End file.
